Eden's Charms

by Jaclyn Tracey

  “Cherié, did you give him the number? You come up unknown on cells.”

  Jovan went to say, “Yes, of course I did,” but shut her mouth when she realized she’d hung up on him before that little tidbit of info was given. “Well our daughter should have called us back by now. That only proves something’s wrong.”

  “Who tried to blow them up?” Lucian leaned into the hallway, Elyza cradled in his arms whimpering with giant-sized teardrops rolling off her little red flushed cheeks. Her baby-soft curls were matted down to her head and her eyes were wide as she looked around at everyone. “Next time you guys have a shouting match, do it outside. Remember the rule: Let sleeping babes sleep.”

  “Come here, my angel.” Raven snagged her from her father’s arms. “Your other very loud, inconsiderate aunt and uncle are sorry they woke you.”

  Jovan walked to Elyza and kissed her. “Not to be a nag, but someone’s got to go to New Orleans. Tonight. Now. This very instant.” Jovan scratched her nose and then rubbed her eye to try and alleviate the twitch working its way in.

  “How do you know where there are?” Raven asked.

  “I’m her mother. I know when she sneezes and has to sit down so she won’t pee her pants afterwards.”

  “TMI, Jovan.” Jonah added.

  ****

  Within an hour and a half Lucian, André and Julian sat on a private jet, headed for the Big Easy. Thirty minutes after they were in the air, Savanah phoned home again.

  “Mum? Hi. Don’t speak yet and whatever you do, don’t channel me.”

  “What’s going on? Are you all right? Did that stupid thing you’re with hurt you? I’ll castrate him.”

  “Mum! I’m fine, other than being drugged, doing a lap dance…”

  “What?”

  Her mother’s shrill voice made Savanah jerk the phone from her ear. “Never mind that part. We had to blow up Ethan’s new corvette. That’s the most painful thing we’ve been through tonight.”

  “Your father’s going to kill me. You’re really not hurt?”

  “No. Why? We’re fine.”

  “Then what took hours to call me back? You should be home by now.”

  Savanah smiled. Her mother was her best friend, and she loved her with every ounce of her soul, but the woman had the most viable umbilical cord on the planet still strangling Savanah. Her mother’s voice sounded shaky. Savanah needed to quell her worries before the posse was unleashed. “I tried a bit ago but you never picked up.”

  “Savanah, I panicked.”

  “No, not you Mom. I don’t see it happening.” Savanah giggled trying to tease her mother. Her mother didn’t laugh, giggle or even breathe. “I swear, Mom we’re fine.”

  “You won’t be in a little bit. I sent your father and two uncles looking for you when you didn’t return my call in the thirty seconds I allotted you to return my call after I spoke with Ethan.”

  “Oh, Mum.” Savanah shook her head. “Listen, my artifacts at the museum were stolen from me last night. My exhibit has been kiboshed. That’s the reason I took off. I needed a bit of space, so Ethan—oh, Mum, you’d really love him if you gave him a chance.” Savanah heard her mother gasping into the phone. “Mum?”

  “I’m here, baby. Keep going. Did you say love?” Jovan’s eye twitched like a frog in a science experiment hooked up to a battery juiced up enough to drive a stock car.

  “Are you sitting down?”

  “Should I be?” Jovan sat regardless.

  “Draque is here somewhere. He bought us drinks, drugged us and then left his calling card with a note on the back, basically telling me he wants his shit back.”

  “Savanah! Mouth.”

  “Sorry. Someone put Nitro in the gas tank of Eth’s new car. Ethan found it and blew up the car. The explosion gave me a concussion. Other than throwing up and passing out, I’m fine. If it makes you feel any better Ethan hasn’t let me hit the ground. He’s strong, sincere, funny, and one heck of a kisser. Mum, don’t let anyone channel when they get here. This hotel we’re at is loaded with spirits.” Savanah yawned.

  “Where’s your escort? You have separate rooms right?” Jovan crossed her fingers.

  Savanah giggled. “He’s in the shower. We just had dinner. So how long have I got ’til I can expect my door being broken down?”

  “You’re safe for at least three more hours. Behave and for Goddess sake, don’t sleep with the man tonight.”

  “You did with Papa.”

  “Yes, my baby, and we have you to show for it. Please, just be careful?”

  “I love you, Mum. I’ll see you tomorrow. Sweet dreams.”

  “Love you more, Peanut.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Soggy, gray nimbostratus clouds smothered the horizon and threatened a good ringing out. The sun wouldn’t come out tomorrow and with that thought Lucian would be stuck with the ridiculous Annie song all day. His nose pressed against the chilled glass of the leer jet, he fought gravity to keep his eyelids open. Between his two traveling companions acting like Chatty Cathy dolls, and the turbulence he’d gotten no rest.

  Julian cursed and paced the entire flight. A box of Dramamine didn’t take the edge off his fear of flying. If anything, the medicine acted more as an antagonist. Just hearing the term near miss brought the man to his knees, and André had whispered it to him more than once. Johnny Damon nearly missed that ball… Jeter nearly missed the throw to first base… Did you see that flock of geese we nearly missed? That’s when Julian cuffed him upside the head. Julian believed each and every time he boarded a plane—it would be his last. A friend of his, an air traffic controller, constantly told him stories of close calls—the things no one wants to hear before boarding a plane. Once Julian’s feet were firmly planted on soil, he bent over and kissed the ground.

  A few steps in front of his brother-in-law, André turned back. “So it is true,” he teased, “you do worship the ground I walk on.” The next few seconds of André’s life became a complete blur. He found himself on the runway, air knocked from his lungs, and crushed into the pavement. After André caught his breath he yelled, “The truth hurts doesn’t it, Grimmy.”

  Julian never looked back as he walked to the limo. “Not as much as I could’ve hurt you.”

  Lucian picked his brother up from the ground, snickering. “You two are far worse than you and I when we were boys, Ands. All this time and you guys never quit.”

  “We’re just fooling around, Luce. It’s harmless.”

  “Yeah, and that’s why you’re bleeding.” Lucian pointed to the red stain crawling across André’s white linen shirt.

  “’Tis just a flesh wound!”

  “All right, King Arthur! Where’s the cell phone? We should call the hotel and give your daughter a head’s up we’re here. You don’t want another episode like yesterday, do you?”

  André’s smile vanished. “I didn’t handle that very well.”

  “You think?” Lucian asked as he shoved him forward toward the car.

  “I think my cell phone is what’s crushed into my chest. Either of you bring one?” Both Lucian and Julian gave the official “no” nod.

  Driving down Magazine Street, André asked the chauffer, “Can we hit Decatur Street first? Savanah loves beignets. We can pick up breakfast for her.”

  “André, you’re planning on killing her with kindness aren’t you.”

  “Something like that, Luce.”

  “He’s planning on stuffing the little dough bombs down Ethan’s throat is what he’s planning,” Julian added. “And if he doesn’t I will.”

  A mere few feet from her room, a box of Café Du Monde coffee, and a bag of piping hot beignets in hand, André’s stomach went queasy. He wasn’t quite certain whether he needed blood or he smelled it, but either way it couldn’t be good, and it sure as hell didn’t smell as appetizing as Savanah’s food. He turned and looked over his shoulder. Lucian’s dents hung over his lips, his silvery-blue eyes had become roiling mercury. André lo
oked at Julian and cringed. He could already see the headlines on the cover of the National Geographic. Shoot First. Don’t Bother With Questions. An elongated nose and the shift of bones that make more noise than corn morphing into fluffy white kernels is never a good thing.

  André whispered. “Are there any surveillance cameras? We’re toast.”

  Julian dropped his voice. “Knock on the door or knock it in, but do it now. I hear footsteps.”

  André banged on the door three times and waited. “Savanah, it’s Papa. Open up, Peanut.”

  “Again,” Julian urged a second later.

  “Move, Ands.” About to slam into the door, a member of the housekeeping popped her head out of an adjacent room.

  “Sir?” she asked, “Can I help you?”

  Julian spun away from the woman so she couldn’t see his facial fur. Lucian threw on sunglasses and yanked his bottom lip up over his top teeth leaving him with a sad under-bite.

  André rolled his eyes. “My daughter checked in here last night, and she’s not answering her door.”

  “Well, Sir,” the woman blushed, “neither would you if you were on your honeymoon.”

  “Wha—uh, oh shit—did you say?” Julian choked.

  André held up the wall and turned ghostly white, and Lucian? Lucian had tears in his eyes, laughing.

  “Oh bloody hell, brother. Your baby’s finally gone and done it.”

  “Bust the door down!” André pointed to Julian.

  “Sir, really, you must let them be.”

  “Lady, you don’t understand. That’s my baby.”

  “And babies grow up, Ands.” Lucian slapped his brother’s shoulder.

  “I can’t wait for Elyza to get married. Then don’t come to me looking for help, because I’ll laugh in your face.” André turned his attention back to the locked door. “Savanah!!!” André screamed. The silence that followed might as well had been death lurking in the darkness. Or at least that’s how André saw it. His heart hurt. Something was wrong, and he knew it wasn’t due to the nuptials between his daughter and Mr. Kitt.

  Jovan? I know you told me not to channel, but, hon, we are standing in the hallway of Mrs. Kitt’s room, and she’s not answering the door.

  Mrs. who?

  Kitt. He married her, Cherié. Our baby got married!

  Oh bloody hell.

  That’s exactly what Lucian said.

  Bust down the door and let me know the second you do. She didn’t tell me that little detail.

  I’ll talk to you later.

  The maid pried André from the door. “Sir, let me go first. She may love you, but I don’t think she’d appreciate seeing you if she and her husband…”

  “Don’t—say another word! Get in there.” André bit out, “Thank you,” as his foot tapped impatiently.

  The maid disappeared behind the door. “Misses? It’s housekeeping, dear. You descent?”

  André pounded his fist into the wall. “Is she descent?”

  The housekeeper raised her voice to carry into the room. “Mister? Misses? You two in here?”

  The three men waited in the hallway looking more like thugs in a Martin Scorsese movie than a doting, overprotective father and two uncles.

  Thump.

  Three stooges squeezed through the door at the same time. Taking in the dismembered room, André ran to his daughter’s side. His heart sank seeing Savanah bound, her hands and ankles duct taped with silver shackles as a secondary binder. Her mouth was stuffed with a sock. Copious amounts of blood covered the bed she lay in, yet the only visible wounds on her were a few scratch marks and two very distinct puncture marks on the right side of her neck, centered over her jugular.

  Savanah’s eyes filled with tears. André tenderly removed the tape from her.

  “Oh princess, who did this to you? Where’s Ethan? Where’s Lucian now?” André pulled her into his arms, and rocked her back and forth.

  Dizzy and confused, she tried to answer them, “They gave me Foxglove. It could’ve killed me, Papa. It’s a cardiac stimulant. Why would they do that? I threw up all over before they taped up my mouth to stop me from yakking up any more shit.”

  “Mouth, Peanut,” Julian said.

  Both Savanah and André turned, giving Julian an irate glance.

  “What?” Julian threw his hands in the air. “Sorry. It’s habit. She swears and someone always says, ‘Mouth!’ Jesus, Savvy,” Julian turned from her and wiped his eyes.

  Lucian entered the room breathless. “Ethan’s not here. I evanesced and covered this hotel. There is a trail of blood going out the bathroom window and up the side of the wall on the other side of the breezeway. Scratch marks are gouged into the stucco. From the looks of things he put up one hell of a fight. But someone got him.”

  “Savvy, what happened?” Julian knelt and took her hand. “Don’t worry, Peanut, we’ll find your husband.”

  Savanah snapped her head to face Julian and started laughing hysterically…until she passed out.

  “Call the cops. Now. Get the maid up off the floor and don’t touch a thing,” Lucian ordered as he looked around the room. Just as Julian picked up the phone, Lucian picked up a small black business card from the table. He read the card: “Draque, Thank you for your Indentured Service. What in blazes is this?” Flipping the card over, Lucian finished, “How does it feel to have something stolen from you that you love? We’ll be in touch. I’ll call. You’ll come.” He turned to Julian. “Put the phone down.”

  André went to the bath, grabbed a wet a cloth came back and sat beside Savanah. He dabbed it over his daughter, cleaning the dried blood from her. “Peanut, tell us.”

  “I ah, I—don’t—I can’t.” She began to shake with tense involuntary rigors. “What did you say before I passed out?”

  André held her tight until he relaxed. “Lucian, does she need blood? Is she in shock? Someone took a chunk out of her.”

  Savanah looked between her father and two uncles blankly. “What makes you think he’s my husband? Papa, I met Draque. The big guy himself paid me a visit. You know all those movies, all the books, all the folktales ever depicted about the guy don’t hold a candle to the real deal. He’s actually beautiful. His eyes are black, his hair is so very white and straighter than a pine needle and as soft as a feather. Look.” Savanah dug into her pocket and pulled out a chunk of blond hair, roots attached, showing them. “We didn’t exactly see eye to eye on a few things. Things got physical. He’s bigger than you, Papa. A lot bigger. Six-six or even six-seven and comes in about three hundred pounds of death-defying brutality.”

  Not one of them said a word, but instead gawked at Savanah, jaws dropped open like nutcrackers waiting for a token to crunch.

  “Ethan is gone, Papa. He took him from me. I tried to stop him. Ethan tried to protect me. He really tried.” Tears filled her eyes again. “Draque had some bloke with him that’s bigger than the Hulk on steroids. He and Ethan got into it pretty good. Most of the blood is Androgen man’s. Eth may not be as big as you three, but he got the guy, that is right up until Draque sank his choppers into me. Then Ethan started bargaining for my life, using his as bait.”

  André dropped his head. The mere thought of Dracula biting his daughter drove him to the brink of madness.

  Julian bent forward fast. Speaking with his head between his knees, he asked, “What happened to Ethan?”

  “Draque tag-teamed with Androgen man and knocked out my would-be lover, squeezing him through an all too tiny window and flew off into the night. Who’s the lady on the couch?” Savanah pointed to the maid.

  “Housekeeping.”

  Savanah!

  Savanah spun toward the door. “Did you hear that?”

  “No. What?”

  Savage? The voice whispered to her in the wind.

  “That! Ethan!” Savanah bounced off the bed and into the breezeway just in time to intercept Ethan. Julian followed on her heels.

  Ethan didn’t have time to apply his brakes
and ran both of them down.

  “Come on, Savage, we gotta get the hell outta here. Come on, baby. Please tell me they didn’t hurt you.” Ethan spoke so fast he never noticed Julian under him. His lips went in search of Savanah’s and when they met he thought he might devour her in one single kiss.

  Savanah gave him the quick once over and cringed. “Ethan, slow down. God, you’re one bloody mess.”

  “Nowhere near as bad as Androgen man.”

  Savanah cracked a subtle smile. “That’s what I called him too.”

  “Really?” Ethan stood and helped her to her feet, and then realized she wasn’t alone. “Uncle Julian, I’m actually glad to see you.”

  Ethan put his forehead to Savanah’s. His hands trembled as he struggled to hold her. “Are you really okay?”

  Savanah shook her head yes. “Are you?” She kissed the tip of his nose.

  Ethan drew her to him and clung to her with a thread of his sanity left. “I am, sweets, but we gotta get outta here. Draque’s got a lair over in the City of the Dead. How apropos! The vile mosquito bit me and then Androgen man came at me with a silver prod. Use your imagination as to where he lodged it.”

  “Oh, Eth, no. Can I do anything?”

  Kiss my ass better, was the very first thing that popped into Ethan’s head, but he’d finally learned some restraint and kept his mouth shut. “I castrated the steroidal-mutant. I got him good.”

  “Ethan, TMI,” Julian added.

  “I shifted after the vamp climbed into his casket for the day and ripped the mutant’s nuts off him.”

  “Ewh!” Savanah’s stomach tightened.

  “I thought they’d be more like brass beach balls, looking at the dude, but his were more like Q-tips. Seriously, Savvy, they were this freaking big.” Ethan spread his fingers out less than an inch apart, showing her what he meant. “He can’t reproduce now. Thank God.”

  “Ethan! Don’t really need the gory details.” Savanah covered her ears.

  “My bad?” Ethan looked up, and noticed the maid staring at everyone. “Probably shouldn’t have said all that aloud. Can you blink at her, you know, do your, I Dream of Jeanie sexy move?”